


Alone While Standing Next to You

by Loudest_Voice



Series: Fire Emblem: 3H fics [6]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy Era, And All the Judgmental Nastiness that Entails, Banter, F/M, Fantasy Mental Illness, Flower Crowns, Gossip, Insomnia, M/M, Mutually Unrequited Pining, felix POV, prince charming dimitri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 03:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21367747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loudest_Voice/pseuds/Loudest_Voice
Summary: Dimitri becomes the most popular boy in school and Felix is totally not mad about it. He's just tired of everyone being a moron, is all.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dorothea Arnault/Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd (background)
Series: Fire Emblem: 3H fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512242
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Alone While Standing Next to You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [luvsanime02](http://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsanime02/pseuds/luvsanime02) for beta reading this even though she doesn't even go here. It's been fun explaining to her why Felix is Like That.

Although Garreg Mach offers the best military training in Fodlan, Felix can't say he's enjoying himself. After all, it also offers constant exposure to _him_. 

"Yesterday, he helped a kitchen maid carry potatoes up the steps," one of the servants simpers during lunch. "He's so _dreamy_. Like a prince from a novel, but in real life!"

"His eyes are so pretty, like the sky on a sunny, cloudless day."

"Did you see him lifting that boulder last week?" says her friend. "Those arms!"

Where did the beast get a boulder in the first place?

"And he goes to mass every day! Just the short service, but still. So devout!"

He likes the hymns. When they were children, he dragged Felix to mass daily, ignoring all protests and inclement weather. They got lost in the fog once, while visiting Sylvain. House Gautier's castle might not be the largest in Faerghus, but it has the most complex architecture after being ravaged by war and vicious winter storms for generations. Try explaining that to a spoiled prince, though. Felix had, and he'd almost frozen to death in a remote corner. Then had been blamed for being such a bad influence. 

"He'll hum to himself sometimes, and it's like the Goddess herself is singing through him!"

For fuck's sake. The boar has an average voice at _best_. 

"And that ass!"

Felix gets up without finishing his meal and leaves the dining hall. One more comment and he'll walk over to the maids and start lecturing them on the beast's true nature, and how he wouldn't notice if they both exploded in front of him, and how stupid it was to assume that someone was noble just because they were beautiful, and, and, and. . . That would make _him_ look like the crazy one. Already, he wastes too much time listening to Ingrid complain that he should be more respectful to His Highness. 

He would go to the training grounds and duel Jeritza until the thrill of battle erases all thoughts of Dimitri from his mind, but he has stable duty to complete. Procrastinating is not an option, since the horses shouldn't be made to pay for the maids' stupid gossip, much less Felix's irritating inability to control his negative reaction to it. Felix likes horses well enough. They might distract him.

They might have, but the beast is there. 

"Oh, Felix!" he says, smiling broadly. "How do you do?"

"What are you doing here?" demands Felix. He's been assigned stable duty with Dorothea Arnault, which would have been annoying enough.

"Oh, Dorothea asked me to cover for her," says Dimitri, still smiling like an imbecile. "She heard Professor Manuela would be joining the choir today, and apparently, they are both alumni of the Mittelfrank Opera Company. Dorothea very much wants to sing with Professor Manuela, and since Sylvain has gone skirt-chasing again, I don't have a training partner. I could have asked Dedue to cover the stables, of course, but he wants to spend some time at this greenhouse today-"

"You could have stopped prattling five sentences ago," interrupts Felix.

Dimitri's expression dims for a second. A second that everyone else would have missed, or at least pretended to miss. "Ah, yes, I apologize for wasting your time," he says, with a sheepish little smile. "Are you also on stable duty? If you want, I could complete your half of the labor as well. I'm almost done anyway."

Felix turns on his heels without a word. It's not so much that he's taking the boar's offer, but that he can't stand to see the bastard so dedicated to his sweet prince act. Or sweet servant, rather. What is he even doing indulging Dorothea's false attentions? It's none of Felix's business. Let Sylvain protect _His Highness_ from Imperial gold diggers. 

Felix does end up at the training grounds, and he does train with Jeritza until dark spots cloud the corners of his eyes. 

"You're sloppy today," Jeritza tells him, when his nose hits the ground for the fifth time in two hours. "Try not to bore me next time."

Felix snarls, but he respects Jeritza's skills enough not to rush at him like an idiot squire in one of Ashe's foolish chivalry novels. The boar prince has been getting on his nerves lately, nevermind that he hasn't gone out of his way to interrupt Felix's routine. In fact, Dimitri has been downright deferential since their arrival, going as far as taking his meals after Felix has left the dining hall. Felix might have been successful in pretending the beast doesn't exist, if only the entire monastery had not decided to fall in love with him. 

That is only a slight exaggeration. 

At the start of the year, Dimitri had been just another pampered noble in Garreg Mach, albeit one with really pretty eyes. Felix had made it clear from the beginning that he had no intention of joining his entourage, never mind what his father and Dimitri himself expected. The battle Felix had expected never happened. Dimitri gave Felix his space, and as a reward (perhaps to himself), he'd joined Dimitri, Sylvain, and Ingrid during training. Dimitri had been tolerating Felix's name-calling, going as far as holding back his dog from Duscur. For a while, Felix allowed himself to hope. For what, he doesn't know, but he had hoped.

Then Dimitri started training the monastery's orphans at swordplay after Mercedes scripture lessons. Suddenly, talk of Dimitri's sweetness dominated all gossip at Garreg Mach. Everything the bastard did became notable, even going to church to enjoy some music. Felix has his own memories from last week, and they don't involve Dimitri's ass.

A young girl had gifted him with a literal flower crown, which Dimitri had accepted with a bright smile. Dorothea had sighed dreamily at the sight, which Felix had been forced to judge a sincere emotion. The beast hadn't been near enough to hear or notice, after all.

"He is genuinely a lovely man, both inside and out," Dorothea had told him. "Is it really so strange that so many are drawn to him?"

"You just want his title and his money," snapped Felix. "And you'd settle for any man with half of what he has."

Dorothea had smirked, then put a rose garland over his head (damn that ridiculous festival). At least she'd had the decency to do it as a slight. 

"I would indeed settle for half the man Dimitri is," she had said to him. "If you're lucky, I might drop my standards so low that even you might consider yourself my suitor."

Felix had been half-offended and half-impressed. If Dimitri intends to make an opera singer fortune and title hunter the next queen of Faerghus, he could do worse than Dorothea. 

Felix is still obsessing about the matter well into the night. He's forced to work on his next report by candlelight, as his circular, beast-related thoughts keep making him lose track of his sentences. After two wasted scrolls, Felix snarls to himself and snuffs the candle. This is probably the type of mood that would prompt Sylvain to lose himself in some maid's skirt, but Felix will go to the training grounds and train until he passes out.

Of course Dimitri is there. Of fucking course.

"Felix!" The beast has the gall to beam at him, bright as the torches that illuminate the training grounds at all hours. Sweat glimmers along his hairline. He stretches his right arm, raising the blunt lance he'd been practicing with over his head as he arches his back, and alright, from a purely aesthetic perspective, Felix can admit that the idiot maids aren't exaggerating. The beast is a model specimen when it comes to physique.

Felix is grateful that it's too dark out to notice his eyes. 

"What a happy coincidence to run into you," says Dimitri, taking a couple of long strides forward. "I know you prefer to train alone-" 

"I don't," snaps Felix. "I just don't like training with _you_."

A lie, since Dimitri is as vicious a duelist as Jeritza, but it's a lie that dims the stubborn light in Dimitri's eyes. 

"Right," says Dimitri, smiling stubbornly. "I'm sorry to be such a nuisance."

Felix is going to scream until his throat ruptures if this goes on.

"I will leave you to your business," says Dimitri, with a little bow. "If you like, I can send Dedue your way. He is an excellent sparring partner."

"As if I want anything to do with your mindless hound," snorts Felix.

Dimitri swallows. "Please do not speak of Dedue in that manner."

Finally. A way to chip away at that pleasant facade.

"Where is your dog anyway?" asks Felix, for once trying to be as insulting as possible, rather than just doing it naturally. "I'm sure he'd be howling at the moon if he lost sight of you."

"I said not to speak of Dedue like that," says Dimitri. The real Dimitri. The one who told knights twice his size what he wanted with every expectation that his demands would be seen to, no matter how ridiculous. "Say what you will about me, but Dedue does not deserve your viciousness."

"Viciousness?" Felix laughs, mean and loud. "That's rich, coming from you."

"I don't pretend to be anything I'm not," says Dimitri, once again as placid as summer wind. 

"Then what's all this nonsense about cleaning stables, rescuing cats, and playing pious errand boy to nuns?"

"I'm simply pulling my weight," says Dimitri, primly. "As you know, social status means little here in the Monastery."

"That's wyvern shit and you know it," snarls Felix. 

Dimitri tilts his head.

Felix walks around him, holding back a snarl. Every time he tries to have an argument with Dimitri while the boar wears his stubborn mask of congeniality, he finds himself with a pounding headache.

"Felix-"

"Leave me alone!" yells Felix. It comes out pleading, rather than angry.

Dimitri sighs. "What can I say or do to make you happy? Tell me, and I will see to it that it is done."

If Felix says something ridiculous, like 'kill your Duscur hound', Dimitri might for a moment feel as wretched as Felix does. 

"Felix?"

"There's nothing, not a single thing you could say or do that would make me forget what you are."

"Oh, I don't want that," says Dimitri. "I meant what I said before. I want you to be happy, Felix."

Felix snorts and starts looking for a blunt training sword. Maybe if he ignores the boar, he will get bored and seek the company of his throng of admirers.

"You act as though only I have changed," says Dimitri, "but you used to be such a sweet boy."

There. Felix's favorite training sword - a broad, inelegant, dull cutlass that lets him whale on dummies without destroying them.

"Remember that time at Count Galatea's ball? When Glenn and Ingrid were betrothed?"

_Father, what does it mean to be betrothed?_

"Shut up," hisses Felix.

"Do you remember what you said when your father explained that Glenn and Ingrid were promised to each other?"

_Then I want to be betrothed to Dima!_

"No."

"Of course you remember," says Dimitri. "I could give you that, you know."

Felix forgets to be angry. He whirls around, then almost balks because Dimitri is _right there_, close enough that Felix can see his bright, blue eyes. How had he moved without making a sound?

"Is that what you want, Felix? Would it make you happy?" 

"Have you completely lost your mind?" 

"Maybe," says Dimitri, with a chuckle. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep in days. Headaches, remember?"

"Yes," breathes Felix.

_I'll rub your head, Dima. Mama does that for Father when his head hurts._

"So, do you want to be mine?" asks Dimitri. "Well. . . more than you already are, that is."

"That's it, you have lost it," says Felix. "I'll have to get your- Dedue." 

He tries to walk around Dimitri, but the beast grabs his arms with a viper-quick movement. Felix tries to wriggle away, but the boar holds on with all his monstrous strength. His eyes glint like raw sapphires. Felix's heart flutters, like a bee trapped in a spider's web. He's holding a training cutlass, and he has no desire to use it. What he wants is to de-escalate the situation, to get Mercedes, or Dedue, or Ingrid, or - Goddess help him - Sylvain. Anyone.

"Dimitri, you're. . . not well."

"Yes, you've been saying as much since we got here," says Dimitri, pulling him closer, touching his forehead to Felix's and closing his eyes.

Felix grips the cutlass tightly. Dedue must be nearby watching his master have a meltdown. Felix just needs to stay calm and someone will come to extricate him from this mess.

"Only you ever made it better," whispers Dimitri. His warm breath ghosts over Felix's mouth and nose. "You can have the entire accursed kingdom and do with it as you like. Abolish the code of chivalry. Empty the kingdom's treasury to give every peasant a sword so that you might never run out of challengers. Anything, just so that I can have you back."

"Dima- Dimitri, don't be such a fool." 

Bright, blue eyes open. Felix goes cross-eyed trying to focus on them. He needs something logical to focus on. Something less terrifying than contemplating that Faerghus' crown prince has offered him the kingdom for. . . what? A childish cuddle session? 

"Remember I can't get pregnant," says Felix. 

Dimitri leans back. A tiny bit. "That is hardly an insurmountable obstacle."

"It seems a bit _insurmountable_ to me," says Felix, rolling his eyes. Faerghus hardly concerns itself with how peasants and second sons and daughters pair off, but those who bear Crests are expected to produce biological heirs. "Or do you intend to change my anatomy - or yours - by royal command?"

"Well, no," says Dimitri. His grip on Felix's shoulders loosens.

Felix jumps at the opportunity to escape the prince's grip.

"That's why there are royal consorts and concubines," says Dimitri. 

It sounds distressingly simple. Felix puts the cutlass back, suddenly uncomfortable with having even a dulled weapon in his hand. "It's late. I should go back."

"Dorothea, for example," Dimitri muses.

Felix almost stops in his tracks, momentarily horrified by the thought that Dimitri has considered this ridiculous notion in the light of day. He refuses to even entertain the idea that the boar might have spoken of this to that wretched woman. 

"I'm going back to my room," says Felix, loudly, in case that dog from Duscur is not near enough to hear the lunacy spilling from his master's lips.

"Yes, good night, Felix," says Dimitri. "Please consider my words."

Felix flees the training grounds for the first time in his life.


End file.
